


fallen down

by stareintospace



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Frisk is a sad bean, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Other, Why did Frisk go to Mt. Ebott?, but they'll be okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-12-28 18:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21141311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stareintospace/pseuds/stareintospace
Summary: What do you do when there's nothing left? You go to Mt. Ebott. The rest is history.A second-person interpretation of Frisk's experiences and thoughts throughout the game.





	1. fallen down

What do you do when there’s nothing left?

You’re just a kid, eleven years old, and you’ve lost everything. Maybe you never had anything to begin with. You’re just a kid, and you’re running to nowhere and anywhere, and all you’ve got is the shirt on your back and a stick you found, and you’re running and running, and you can’t breathe and your chest hurts and you have nothing.

What do you do when there’s nothing left?

You go to Mt. Ebott.

It is, as its name suggests, a mountain, and it takes you a long time to make it to the top because you’re already exhausted from all the running you just did. The running you’re still doing. You’re so, so tired.

You don’t stop.

It’s quiet on the mountain. The sunlight filters in through the leaves of the trees and squeezes in between their trunks. Everything is stained with a warm, golden glow; as you walk- you walk because you can’t run anymore, but you also can’t stop moving- you watch the particles of dust and dirt drift through the patches of light, weightless, immune to the effects of gravity and its crushing weight.

You wish you were a particle of dust, too; then you could just float, up and away, and find a home in the sky. The closest you’ll ever get is the top of Mt. Ebott, though, and you guess that’s why you just keep walking.

As you meander through the forest, something catches your eye: a cave leading into the mountain. It’s dark, and empty, and something about it (is there something in there? You think you hear something, a faint, small sound, distant as though echoing from some place far, far away) draws you in. It draws you in.

You go in.

You walk for a bit in the dark. The ground beneath your feet is jagged and hard enough that you can almost feel it through the soles of your boots (they’re too big, your boots, and not even yours, you snatched them from the neighbor’s porch when you- well, when you- well, it doesn’t matter anymore) until abruptly you step onto something softer. You look down. There’s grass on the cave floor now, and as you squint your eyes and strain to peer past all the shadows hanging like heavy, dark curtains, you think you see something. A room, maybe? A glimmer of light, faint but noticeable, lies ahead.

You go in.

It is, in fact, a room. Too big to be a room, actually, it’s more of a cavern, with a high ceiling that boasts a large hole in the middle, allowing more of that warm, golden sunlight to stream in. There are plants everywhere, vines and grass and long tendrils of greenery that crawl up the walls and wrap around the sharp juts of rock and stone that sprout up from the ground. You think they’re called stalagmites? Or maybe stegosauruses. You suppose it doesn’t matter.

What does matter is the pit in front of you. It’s pretty big, although there’s plenty of room for you to walk along its perimeter and peer into it, which you do, allowing you to surmise that it’s pretty deep as well. It’s even darker than the hallway you traveled through to get to this point.

It’s exactly what you came here for.

You take a deep breath and grip your stick a little bit harder; you need something to hold on to right now. You need something to ground yourself before you quite literally hit the ground yourself, because that’s what is happening here. You realize it now. This is why you ran (and ran, and ran, and ran) and this is why you climbed the cursed mountain and this is why you take a slow step forward, and then another, and another.

You are going to walk slowly and solemnly, with the utmost poise and dignity, until there’s no more ground to walk on and you can fall, quietly and gently, into the mountain. That is what’s going to happen here, you decide.

This is naturally the moment when one of your too-big boots snags on a vine that was slightly raised up from the ground (literally, it looked like the vine had raised up, like it had moved, did it just-?) and then you’re falling and falling and falling and then

you wake up in a bed of golden flowers. 


	2. love and souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a flower, a kid, and a goat all walk into a bar.

You just lay there for a minute. You lay there on your back and breathe in and out, staring up, up, up at the hole in the ceiling above (the hole you just fell into?) and the sunlight pouring down and washing over your face. The golden flowers that broke your fall brush their petals up against your cheeks and the softness of their touch is nice.

You sit up.

Amazingly (_impossibly_), you don’t feel like you just fell into a cavernous pit inside a cursed mountain. You feel alright, actually. Are you a little disappointed? You’re not really sure right now. Time to move past this line of questioning.

As you push yourself to your feet, you take in the rest of the room you’ve unwittingly found yourself in. There isn’t much to observe, honestly; there’s the patch of flowers (with a noticeable you-shaped dent in the center, sorry flowers) and they’re directly inside the little circle of sunlight that illuminates this room, and that’s all.

You’re alone.

You’re tired of being alone.

As you spin in a slow circle, taking care not to trip over those boots, you notice that this room is made out of stone. Well, you’re inside of a mountain, so this shouldn’t be that surprising, but this stone is different. It looks like stonework, as though somebody had carefully laid slabs and blocks of carved rock until this room was completed, a new creation brought into the world and then suddenly, abruptly abandoned, _forgotten_, left to rot and struggle and wake up alone in the night terrified and gasping for breath and

you don’t want to be in this room anymore.

Luckily, during your slow rotation you notice a little hallway, and at the end of that hallway there is a large doorway cut into the stone wall. You check to make sure your stick is still in one piece after the fall, and with it safely in your inventory, you make your way to that doorway.

Now you’re positive that somebody built this place within the mountain. There are tall pillars on either side of the doorway, and a weird symbol at the top. What is that, a Snitch hovering above some Doritos? You shrug and enter the next room. It’s very dark in here, with only a small pool of sunlight and ragged grass between the two entryways into this room. You intend to move quickly through this room, as it’s empty and dark, but before you get past the patch of grass you see it wriggle and bulge and suddenly

a golden flower bursts from the ground.

It is shockingly similar to the golden flowers in the previous room (honestly, that’s one of the least shocking things about the events currently unfolding) with exception of two little eyes and a broad smile that all twinkle aggressively in your direction. You stare at each other a moment, you and this flower with a face, and it’s quiet as you both observe the new arrival in this dark place.

“Howdy!” the flower trills suddenly, and you jolt in surprise. “I’m Flowey! Flowey the flower.”

Silence.

The flower (Flowey, you guess? What?) seems a little confused when you don’t respond in kind, but it quickly recovers and continues speaking. “Hmm….” it says, quickly eyeing you from top to bottom. “You’re new to the Underground, aren’tcha?”

This time it doesn’t wait for a response. “Golly, you must be so confused! Someone ought to teach you how things work around here!” Flowey exclaims, with a sympathetic pout on its little face. “I guess little old me will have to do!”

Flowey bounces a little in place, its golden petals as bright and cheerful as the grin that suddenly blossoms. “Are you ready?” it asks, voice high and excited, and before you can do anything it shouts, “Here we go!” and suddenly your vision flickers and goes dark and then

s o m e t h i n g i s _r i p p e d_ f r o m y o u r c h e s t.

As soon as you can see again- actually, as soon as you can breathe again- you quickly realize that the world around you has lost its color. Everything is in shades of black and white, including Flowey and yourself. The only thing breaking this new monochromatic landscape is a little spot of red that hovers in the air just in front of you. You look at it, reach out to touch it, and as you move it does too, bobbing gently forward and then back again as your arm drops back to your side. You realize that it’s a heart.

Is that your heart?

Is that you?

“See that heart?” Flowey asks. “That is your SOUL: the very culmination of your being!” It beams at you, watching intently as you experiment a little with this new addition. You move around from side to side and even jump a few times, and sure enough, that little red heart stays right with you. You can see it pulse in time with your heartbeat, which makes sense, and its soft red glow glints off the buttons of your overalls. As you observe your soul, Flowey continues its one-sided conversation.

“Your SOUL starts off weak, but can grow strong if you gain a lot of LV.” At your confused expression, it quickly explains. “What does LV stand for? Why, LOVE, of course!” It giggles as though this is the funniest joke it's ever heard in its life. You crack a little smile at that; this flower is the nicest (person?) being you’ve met in a long time. You miss having someone nice to talk to. Seeing your smile, Flowey leans forward, as though it wants to share something secret with you.

“You want some LOVE, don’t you? Don’t worry!” It winks and playfully sticks its tongue out at you. “I’ll share some with you!”

Suddenly, small white seeds spring into existence around Flowey. They organize themselves into a semicircle above Flowey’s head as you watch in amazement at the casual display of magic. That’s what it is, right? It’s magic. You dimly remember all the legends and myths about the sorcerers and magic-wielders that once roamed the land, but you never thought that that magic was actually _real_.

“Down here, LOVE is spread through….uh…” it pauses, eyes flickering to the side for a moment as it thinks before quickly continuing, “friendliness pellets! Are you ready, pal?” Before you can respond, those little pellets begin soaring towards you and your exposed soul, gliding effortlessly through the air. “Move around! Catch as many as you can!” Flowey cheers from its patch of grass.

It’s watching you closely, dark eyes tracking your movements, pinned to your admittedly diminutive form.

To your soul.

For just a moment, you hesitate. You’ve always been good at sensing what lies underneath the surface. You’re usually the first to pick up on the tension in the room, the loud silence that immediately follows a nasty argument-

the look in somebody’s eyes when they’re about to do something that will hurt you.

But then the moment passes and you focus on Flowey’s sweet little face and its happy smile and you’re just so tired. You don’t want to be scared or suspicious or on guard all the time anymore. You’re tired. Before you can overthink the situation anymore (and make Flowey mad, what if it gets mad, it’s been so nice to you and this is how you repay it?) you focus on one of the incoming pellets and step to the right to intercept it midair.

It _hurts_.

Only one of them actually makes contact with your soul, but it feels as though you’ve been stabbed with a knife. It’s a sharp, jolting pain that seems to travel and burn throughout your entire body, and it actually brings you to your knees before you realize what’s happening. You’ve been hurt before, you’ve known pain, but this is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

As you drop to your knees on the rough stone floor, you hear Flowey give another little giggle, like it’s just heard another hilarious joke. You look up and see that same sweet smile on its face as it watches you shake and tremble from the pain and shock of having someone deliberately attack your soul. “You idiot…” Flowey smirks at you, eyes filled with a sick satisfaction. “In this world, it’s KILL or BE KILLED.”

A ring of pellets begin to manifest around you, but all you can focus on is the horrific grin that threatens to split Flowey’s face in two; it’s sharp and jagged and wrong and it’s barely a smile, it’s a snarl, and oh god you’re going to

“**DIE**.”

That circle begins closing in on you, and Flowey just laughs and laughs as you try to grab your soul out of the air. If you can just grab it, if you can just push it back into your chest, you’ll be fine, but you can’t. It bobs away from you every time you try, and quickly you have to stop trying because those pellets are getting closer and you don’t want to push your soul into them. You realize you can’t escape. You’re trapped. This is it.

This is the end.

But then, just before those pellets reach you (and dig into your skin, and rip into your soul, and _kill you_), something lights up in the corner of your eyes, just on the edge of your peripheral vision. A fireball flies from the darkness and collides with Flowey, ripping its roots out of the earth and sending it flying into the shadows.

The shocked expression on its face is almost funny.

You sit there for a few seconds, just breathing, and as you recover your vision flickers again and the color in the world is back, and your soul is gone. You sit there, and as you do, a soft voice speaks from a darkened corner of the room. “What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth…”

You look up as a _monster_ slowly moves into the sunlight in the center of the room.

You stare at this monster, this monster that towers over you and casts a long shadow over your face, and you can barely breathe or think. You're so scared.

The monster smiles at you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 has arrived! It's a lot longer than Chapter 1, but somehow worse.
> 
> I'm probably making Frisk way too angsty, and I'm so sorry about that, but they've had it rough for a while! They're gonna need some time and TLCB (ten large cinnamon buns) to recover. But trust me when I say that they will recover!
> 
> Also, obviously, I'm using they/them pronouns for Frisk. I'm also using 'it' for Flowey in this chapter, solely because for the moment, Frisk looks at Flowey and just sees a flower. This will probably change to he/him later on, once Frisk starts uncovering some secrets and becomes a little more familiar with the Underground and the world of monsters.


	3. determinate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> frisk finds a mom, a mysterious light, and a desire to push forward

So, there you are, kneeling on stone floor, as a monster looms over you. And you do mean loom, because this monster is very tall, and you would have to physically crane your neck and look up, even if you weren’t currently crumpled in a heap on the ground.

Much like the encounter just minutes before, you and the monster just stare at each other for a few long moments. You don’t know what to expect anymore, and part of you just wants to run away back into the dark before this new person hurts you too, but you don’t know what to do and the fear freezes you stiff.

The monster’s eyes are soft and dark against the snow-white fur that covers her entire body, and her hands (they’re big and you see small but sharp claws glinting in the light streaming down from above) are clasped together at the front of her long, purple robe. The monster has long white ears that rest on her shoulders and little horns that sprout up on the top of her head. Basically, you decide, it’s like you’re looking at a goat; well, a goat that’s at least six feet tall and can blast fireballs and also might kill you in a minute.

As you observe the monster, she also seems to be observing you in return. You see those dark eyes focus on your face and then move down, and you see her expression grow tight as she sees the scratches and abrasions that run up and down your legs. Something in you- that little spark of hope that just can’t seem to die, no matter how many times the world tries to stomp it out of you- imagines that this monster looks upset at your condition.

Finally, the monster speaks. “Are you alright, my child?”

She takes a step forward and you can’t help but flinch back, just a bit. She stops immediately and looks pained, but then gathers herself and kneels down, instead. She’s still taller than you, but at least now you can see her face a bit clearer, and you feel a little of your nervousness leave you as she makes herself less imposing.

She smiles at you from her new position and rests her hands on her lap, one large paw folded over the other. “Ah, do not be afraid, my child. I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins.”

Toriel, then. That’s the name of your rescuer. It sounds gentle and kind, like her soft voice and warm eyes.

You think it suits her.

“I pass through this place every day to see if anyone has fallen down.” she says amicably, and peers past you into the darkened doorway that leads back to that room with the golden flowers (no, no, you don’t want to think about golden flowers anymore, no more flowers). Her expression grows tight once more, and you see shadows darken her face as her mood inexplicably becomes- well, you think she looks sad. Very sad. “You are the first human to come here in a long time.” Toriel says eventually, and it’s quiet for a moment as you both kneel there, the air heavy with something you don’t quite understand.

She refocuses on you and gives you another, slightly weaker, smile. “I can see that you are injured, no doubt from your fall and your unfortunate encounter with that horrible creature.” She gestures slightly to your legs and the trembling that’s still affecting your body, and her upper lip curls a bit in disgust (at the flower, you hope). “If you would permit me to come a bit closer, I could heal you with my magic.”

Toriel looks into your eyes then, and waits, and now it is your turn to make a decision.

You blink a few times and look down at your lap. Now that some time has passed and you’ve been sitting on the ground for a while, the countless scrapes and bruises over your body are really starting to hurt, and the awful, static-like sensation in your legs as they fall asleep is only growing as they’re cramped from the awkward position and weight of your body.

You still feel the pain in your soul, too, and that’s the worst of all. It’s like you can feel your heartbeat slowing, like your soul is straining to stay alive. You feel weak, and scared, and vulnerable, and despite all of the evidence to the contrary, something about Toriel just feels safe in a way that no one has ever felt before.

You imagine that this is what home feels like.

You nod and weaken your death grip on your stick (you hadn’t even realized how tightly you were holding it until now) and let it and your arm relax and fall to your side. Toriel looks delighted and does an awkward little knee shuffle forward until the fabric of her thick, purple robe is brushing against your overalls. Somehow, she even makes that movement look graceful. You feel vaguely impressed.

“Could you straighten your legs out for me, my child?” she asks, and you willingly re-maneuver yourself until your legs are sticking straight out, stretching out towards Toriel. You wince as you see your dirty boots brush up against her pristine robe, but she doesn’t seem to mind at all. Instead, she brings her hands up to hover just over your legs and gives you an encouraging smile. “Now, you’re going to see a green glow appear from my hands, but do not worry! It is just healing magic, and it will not hurt at all.”

With that, sure enough, you see her hands light up with a bright, green glow, and as it seems to flow from her palms to your legs, you see all your wounds begin to shrink and fade until it’s like they were never there, leaving smooth skin in their place.

Actually, your entire body seems to be recovering; you realize it’s suddenly much easier to breathe, and your head isn’t pounding as much, and your heartbeat feels normal again. You feel good. You feel better than you have in a long, long time.

After about a minute of this, the light fades from her hands and Toriel leans back on her heels, a pleased smile on her face. “There we are, good as new!” she exclaims brightly, and stands, reaching a hand down to help you up. “I suppose I’ve really given you a _leg_ up!”

……was that a _pun_?

You decide then and there that you trust Toriel. Somebody who makes bad jokes like that can’t be bad themselves. It’s like a law of the universe.

You reach up and take her hand. It dwarfs yours, and the soft fur and gentle grip makes you feel secure. Toriel waits a moment to let you get your bearings, but once you’re stable, she gestures to the doorway on the other side of the room. “Through that door lies a section of the Ruins known as the Catacombs. Do not be afraid,” she says, and squeezes your hand. “I will guide you through the puzzles and traps safely. I have walked these halls for a very long time.”

With that, the two of you leave the dark room and enter the Ruins.

Abruptly, the rough grey rock of the mountain gives way to smooth, purple stone. You and Toriel are now in a large room, with a large double-staircase at the far end; the stairs lead to a landing with yet another doorway, with two long, trailing curtains of ivy on either side. There are also two small, square windows that you assume offer a glimpse into the next section of the Ruins. Toriel releases your hand and continues on as you linger in the entryway, taking in the abrupt change in scenery. You slowly follow her as she begins walking up one of the staircases and she's already almost halfway up when you see a flash of light from the corner of your eye.

You stop in your tracks. Toriel doesn’t appear to have noticed anything amiss and continues to climb the staircase, but you know that you just saw something between the two sets of stairs- something bright, something gleaming, something that tugs at your soul as if to say ‘Hey, hello, look at me!’

You look at it.

There, a bright splotch of yellow against the purple floor, is what seems to be a puddle of light. Literally, it looks like a bit of sunlight has been snipped off and slapped on the ground. It pulses and gleams, and its edges seem to be pushing and pulling in and out, almost like waves crashing against a shore. It’s mysterious, and hypnotic, and you really, probably shouldn’t touch it. You should at least tell Toriel about it, right? You look at Toriel, who is almost at the top of the stairs. You look at the patch of burning light.

You touch it.

Immediately, a feeling sweeps through you. You know it well; it’s been your constant companion your entire life. It’s what has kept you fighting and hoping and loving despite all of the people and suffering that tell you to give up, to stay down, to stop trying. You feel it now, as you stand in a mysterious place filled with strangers and traps and murderous flowers, far below the surface of the Earth and the life you once had.

The shadow of the Ruins looms above, filling you with **determination**.

You follow Toriel into the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot to say about this one honestly! I'm trying to figure out how much dialogue I want to directly pull from the game, and how much I want to add or leave out entirely. We'll see as the story continues!
> 
> I can already tell that my writing style and its tone has shifted, and I'm not sure if I'm happy about that. I guess it's probably easier to read because it's a little less stream of consciousness, but I guess that makes sense bc Frisk is becoming a little more grounded and secure, especially because Toriel has arrived }:) Oh well! Just gotta keep rolling with it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic in a very, very long time. I'm very rusty, so don't expect anything very good. If you took the time to read this little prologue, though, thanks! I hope it was okay :)
> 
> Undertale will always hold a special place in my heart, I think, and that means Frisk is also very important to me. I love the duality of Undertale's protagonist inherently being Frisk, with us, the players, just pulling the strings for most of the journey. Knowing that Frisk is meant to this genuinely sweet, pacifistic child makes me appreciate Undertale even more from their perspective. I wanted to try and look past the player's manipulations and influences on the story and explore it at its core: Frisk (with everything left unsaid about their past and life outside of the Underground) and their journey through Undertale, and their developing relationships with their found family.
> 
> With some time travel and death and bad jokes included, of course.


End file.
